


Waste of Breath

by EntreNous



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Obsession, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Verbal Humiliation, Weird Vampire Courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-10
Updated: 2005-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike can't stop staring at Xander's mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waste of Breath

**Author's Note:**

> Written for margarks.

“So what, now that we know the demon’s weak spot, we grab a bunch of axes and stakes, and we’re good to go, right?” Xander asked Buffy cheerfully.

It wasn’t worth Spike’s time even snorting at that one. Giles had just said not a second ago that all that was left to do was gather their weapons and depart. 

But then the boy always had a tendency to state the obvious. Really, if Xander hadn’t let loose a stream of words of absolutely useless information, he’d be more inclined to be shocked. Spike didn’t have to draw air in and out of his body to know what it meant to think “waste of breath” when it came to replying to Harris. 

On the other hand, even though Xander’s lips moving seldom resulted in anything worth hearing, the _motion_ of that mouth moving interested Spike greatly. 

“Sure we can trust droopy with anything sharp?” Spike asked with an arched brow.

Buffy merely rolled her eyes and handed Xander an axe before starting to walk out with Willow. 

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I’ve been practicing,” Xander said indignantly. “Giles has been teaching me a thing or two.”

“I’ll bet he has,” Spike said, his eyes on Xander’s mouth as that pink tongue flicked out to wet lips nervously. 

“I don’t know why I even bother talking to you,” Xander grumbled as he turned away. Which was no good at all. It meant that Spike couldn’t watch that pretty mouth move and pout as Xander complained, see those plump lips press and part when Xander didn’t understand something, or keep an eye out for the anxious way Xander bit his lower lip when they were just about to jump into the fray. 

“Don’t let me spoil your ass-getting-kicked brand of young American fun,” he said genially, causing Xander to turn and glare at him. Spike dropped his eyes down that strong body hidden under hideous clothes, raised them back up again to Xander’s mouth fixed into a frown, and smirked. 

“Make him shut up,” Xander pleaded with Willow. “There’s got to be a spell for that.”

“What?” she asked in confusion. “No. At least, not until later, because for now he has to be able to tell Buffy when to drive the sword in.”

“Thanks ever so much, Red,” Spike called out.

The walk to the cemetery was less than entertaining, what with Xander facing away from him, and Spike unable to see him muttering under his breath or watch those brown eyes flash when Spike pronounced how very likely Xander was to end up bruised and battered by night’s end. However, Xander did trip over his axe just at the entrance, so the sight of those well-shaped limbs tumbling down into an inelegant and vulnerable heap made up for much of the wasted twenty minutes.

The meeting with the demon was even less intriguing than Giles’ boring rendition of how they were to kill it had promised. But that wasn’t what Spike was here for.

Red and Buffy had gone up ahead, chattering about essays they still had to write and the possibility of late-night pizza, and Giles had hurried behind them, jotting down in a small journal some notes about the demon’s helpful way of dying quickly.

Perfect time to slam Xander up against a crypt and check for himself that the boy hadn’t been hurt when the monster du jour had knocked him down.

Xander let his head thunk back against the stone, submitting to Spike’s examination of hands pressed lightly against critical points and fingers brushing over exposed skin. His lips trembled and his chest rose and fell with his rapid heartbeat and panting breaths. “Are you done?” he asked finally. 

“Right. You managed not to slice any essential part of yourself off with that axe for another day,” Spike said brusquely as he rested his palms flat against the crypt’s surface on either side of Xander’s broad shoulders. “Nice work, especially considering your abilities.” 

“I hate you,” Xander said miserably. 

“And I,” Spike purred as he lifted one hand, leaned his body point for point against Xander's, and brushed his thumb back and forth over Xander’s enticing lower lip. “I hate you _more_.”


End file.
